Kindred Souls
by Hellbendet
Summary: Someone rescues Harry from his relatives and it is none other than our favorite Aquatransexual Ranma! Warning: nonexplicit child abuse. Sorry I haven't updated.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Anything and everything you can recognize is not mine. All I really own is a crappy computer and stereo system, so suing is not recommended. And I could use a beta please. Oh, and a cheering section. P.S. the really good flames will be used for my own sadistic entertainment purposes only.

No one knows what it's like  
To be the bad man  
To be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes

No one knows what it's like  
To be hated  
To be fated  
To telling only lies

But my dreams  
They aren't as empty  
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely  
My love is vengeance  
That's never free

No one knows what it's like  
To feel these feelings  
Like I do  
And I blame you

No one bites back as hard  
On their anger  
None of my pain and woe  
Can show through

But my dreams  
They aren't as empty  
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely  
my love is vengeance  
that's never free

Discover... L-I-M-P  
I... No one knows what it's like  
To be mistreated  
To be defeated  
Behind blue eyes

And no one knows how to say that they're sorry  
And don't worry  
I'm not telling lies

But my dreams  
They aren't as empty  
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely  
My love is vengeance  
That's never free

No one knows what it's like  
To be the bad man  
To be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes

-Limp Bizkit

Dream-

"Darkness beyond twilight,

Crimson beyond blood that flows,

Buried in the stream of time,

That's where your power grows,

I pledge myself to conquer,

All the fools that stand…

….against the mighty gift bestowed in my unworthy hand,

Let the fools that stand before me be destroyed by the power you and I posses,"

The energy cackles up and down my arms. Sparking and flashing in a beautiful dance, twisting and twirling. Magic courses through my blood, my body pulses with it. It's intoxicating, all this power at the tip of my fingers. Nothing like the Giga Slave, but powerful none the less. Winds whip and tear at my clothes and hair. And yet, at the same time, a silence fills the void where I am.

It looks like infinity, not that I have ever seen it but that is the feeling present. I think back on my life, the powerful memories booming across the land, tearing at the serenity of the emptiness. As I watch my life I grow angry. Angry at being used. But it does not last long as sadness flutters in. I am alone. Resentment colors the void, everything I don't know or understand reflected in my mood. I know there is more to my life, and it frustrates me to no end that I don't know what.

It might be surprising that I, the dumb jock, can have any idea about any subject as intricate as arcane magic. The truth is while Gemna was on several of those infamous drinking binges I had noting to do at the monasteries. They, the monks, made sure that I was educated because they could see where my father would lead me. Sadly they could not secrete me away, father always knew and was more powerful than they were. Besides magic is far more like the art than he would admit, Kami knows I soaked it all up like a sponge.

A mirror appears before me, in it I see myself. Not as others see me, a cocky young martial artist, but as a warrior. I have killed. I'm not quite sure how to describe it, beautiful and deadly. Heh, me the man among men saying beautiful. But that is what I see; my face holds a feminine structure, high cheekbones and delicately curving features, striking blue eyes without pupils, elegant eyelashes, long ebony hair flowing from a pigtail down to my knees, pointed ears, athletic build, and big wings the color of darkness with a splatter of blood red flecks. They did not look like wings, I am not sure how to describe it but I know that with them I can truly fly. The wings were not made of feathers, but had a more cloth like quality. Whipped around in the wind and full of holes, perhaps a reflection of my soul. As I look at them they seem to fade a bit before disappearing entirely.

A warrior.

A healer.

An angel.

A demon.

A savior.

A monster.

A beautiful fallen god as a testament to a world of light, dark, and all the shades of gray in between. Here I see salvation and condemnation. I look down, now I appear to myself as I do in the mirror, I look at my clawed hands. The power to give life, or take it. Even the gods were not safe, as with Saffron. I stopped him, forever. He will never rise from his ashes again, I killed him. As a phoenix, he was the master of rebirth. The worst I think is the lack of guilt, of remorse, and no satisfaction that I had won. Does that make me heartless?

I can't be heartless; I'm in too much pain. I ache for understanding, for companionship. But all I have gotten from this life was lies and torture. Gemna would freak if he found out I can control the Neko-ken. But I'm still weak; the battle with Saffron took too much out of me. I switch my thoughts to the others; my mother, Akane, Nabiki, Soun, Cul Lon, Xian Pu, Ryoga, Ukyo, Mu Tzu, and the old shriveled freak. My anger returns, but underneath lays resignation. I will leave, no confrontations or anything of the like, I'm just gone. They will harm me no more. I won't let them. I can't. Not anymore.

I look back at the mirror. In it I see a boy, he looked young. He has green eyes and black hair. I can see the deadened look in his eyes, as a fat man hits him. He won't fight back, for a moment I can feel his pain. Not physical, more emotional, or maybe a mixture of the two. He lost someone, but I lost myself. Maybe he can accept me, we might be friends. And friends don't let friends get hurt. But I can't get to the other side of the mirror. I feel like fate is taunting me, it makes me angry, and I throw the energy I held at the mirror.

"DRAGON SLAVE"

As the fat man throws the boy in a cupboard a bright flash fill my world. I had to look away as the rumbling of thunder jars my bones and lightening sears the sky. When it dies down I look back, the surface of the mirror looks like liquid. I reach out and it ripples at my touch. On the other side I see the people are gone and the lights are off. There is the cupboard, I can heal the boy and maybe he will come with me away, to the stars. Anything is better than this.

My mind goes back to my life, my old life. They would be surprised to find that The Ranma Satome ran away. But that doesn't matter; he was a mask, nothing more. I don't think I was ever Ranma anyway. I have no name; maybe my friend will give me one. I can't help but think he will reject me, but I must have hope, it's all I have left. I pull my arms close to my chest for the mediocre of comfort that provides, and I step through the mirror.

End dream-

I am awake. I know this but it doesn't fit. I still am the figure of darkness, a fallen angel of war. The boy. My dreams brought me, what good luck, notice the heavy sarcasm present. Or bad when you think about it. I walk to the cupboard and use a small amount of ki to melt the lock off. Opening the door slowly I let a little ball of ki grow so I can see. He is awake and looking at me. I don't think he can do anything though, too much blood. I reach out to him, but do not touch. I must wait, I don't mean any harm.

Slowly he takes my hand with pain filled movements, I let my energy flow through him. Cuts seal up, bruises disappear, and his breathing regulates. The effort takes a lot out of me; I am tired, as it takes far more to create than to destroy. He notices, and steadies me. This is good, he is not afraid. I ask him his name, he looks surprised as if he expected me to know. "Harry." He gave me a small smile, and my heart soars, hope. It is a powerful thing. It can rend the mightiest of kingdoms to pieces or heal a broken heart in a single instant. Harry asks me who I am and why I was there. I tell him that I am lost, and that I saw a boy.

He accepts this and I ask him to come with me. I don't know where but I will go anywhere with him, even if he stays. We have a mutual understanding that we are now friends. Just the word elates me, there are so few truths like this in my life. We go out the kitchen door of the house, the moon light our path as I have long since extinguished my ball of light. There is a shed, and it appears that he wants something in it, but there is a lock. I melt this lock as well.

Harry studied me for a moment before opening the door and going in. I wait patiently outside. He comes out with a trunk, it looks heavy so I pick up the other side. Together we shoulder the burden out of the yard and down the street. After a while the houses get farther apart, there is a forest up ahead. It is a good choice. We go in and travel for several hours. My exhaustion catches up with me and we move slower. He is patient with me even with his anxiousness to escape.

No one has ever done that for me before. In 'that place,' I shudder, it was keep ahead of the game or die. Even my mother gave me any slack. Although I think it was more because she was entirely skewed in head than any actual cruelty. After all she did marry Gemna and continues on and on about honor when it is perfectly clear to anyone with an IQ over 40 that the Family name no longer has any. Funnily enough I doubt a single person in Nerima with the exception of Kasumi and Doc. Tofu has an inkling of an idea about what honor truly is.

The sky begins to lighten, twilight is my favorite time of day, and you can still see all the stars. We stop to watch the sky between the tall trees for a minute. Then I begin a campfire as Harry collects wood. When I start it with my ki I am at the end of my endurance and I fall. He catches me, looking a little worried. I close my eyes and my last thought is thankfulness that something warm has covered me. Oblivion is nice. Mayhap I will not dream tonight, I can only pray for such a mercy. And I hope I don't change genders while I sleep, that might be a bit hard to explain.

-End-


	2. Chapter 2

A court is in session A verdict is in  
No appeal on the docket today, just my own sin  
The walls are cold and pale the cage made of steel  
Screams fill the room alone I drop and kneel  
Silence now the sound my breath the only motion around  
Demons cluttering around my face showing no emotion  
Shackled by my sentence expecting no return  
Here there is no penance my skin begins to burn

So I held my head up high hiding hate that burns inside  
Which only fuels there selfish pride  
We're all held captive out from the sun

A sun that shines on only some

We the meek are all in one  
I hear a thunder in the distance see a vision of a cross  
I feel the pain that was given on that sad day of loss  
A lion roars in the darkness only he holds the key  
A light to free me from my burden and grant me life eternally  
Should have been dead on a Sunday morning banging my head  
No time for mourning ain't got no time

So I held my head up high hiding hate that burns inside  
Which only fuels there selfish pride  
We're all held captive out from the sun

A sun that shines on only some

I cry out to God seeking only his decision  
Gabriel stands and confirms  
I've created my own prison

-creed

He didn't have a name. At least is seems like he doesn't. I looked over at the sleeping boy wrapped in one of my old school cloaks. He had been so tired, I had seen it. And I wondered again why he came, rescued me, and mostly why I went. He's my friend, and he just might end up just like Sirius. But he cared, didn't ask questions. That was enough.

Maybe I could give him one of my names. Harris James Alexander Callen Potter. Not James, too much of my father. After I saw Snape's memories my illusions of James Potter were crushed. Callen then if he likes it, after all Alexander means protector and that's my job. I continue to stare into the flames, feeding them every now and then. By now it's mid afternoon, my friend stirs.

He pulled off my school robe I used to cover him and stretched, like a cat. I asked him about the name, he seemed so happy. "Callen, where are you going?" He told me that he was going to get lunch. While Callen was gone I pulled out some preserved pies that Mrs. Weasley gave me before summer vacation. They know about my relatives, it isn't something that's talked about, but there none the less. Yet I come back every year, I guess they don't think it's that bad, I never admitted anything anyway.

When Callen came back he had a deer slung over one shoulder and two rabbits in his hand. He quickly skinned and gutted the carcasses with his finger nails. I asked him how he could do that, he just shrugged saying that it would take a long time to understand. Something about the unexplainable, I know what he means with my magic and all. How do you explain something that just exists? That the fundament rules are understood even though there is no specific definition that can be attributed to it. I guess we have something in common, that and the world weary look in our eyes.

He seems uncomfortable with himself, overcautious. Like the world will break at the slightest touch, he handled me like that too. I didn't begrudge him that, I saw the way the branches crumpled under his fists when he broke them for the fire. I had asked about magic, he is capable of it if not comfortable. Apparently the magic he uses rarely comes from the castors core but an assortment of multidimensional entities that would never notice if Earth just went kablooy one day for no reason. It's all kind of scary when I think about it. Plus even when he doesn't use magic he can be intimidating. Personally I have never seen anything like ki.

We cooked the meat, all of it. I am still amazed at how much Callen ate, it should have been impossible. We doused the fire quickly; I think he knew that we were too close to the Dursely's home for comfort. By now Dumbledor would know that I had left the house and sending search parties out. What would they do to Callen? I mean, he didn't exactly look even remotely like a wizard, or a muggle for that matter. I don't think I could bear that, he drew me in and now I can't let go.

"Can you use something to move faster?" I told him about my broom, Callen said that it would do. He picked up my trunk with all my school supplies in it and proceeded to put it up his sleeve. The amazing thing is, it just disappeared. When I asked him about it Callen replied that all he did was make a pocket of space. I still don't understand it. I had asked if he folded the space but he shook his head no and every time he tried to explain it he looked more confused than I felt. Even more spectacular is how he traveled, jumping from branch to branch near the top of the trees.

We traveled for most of the day. And we continued to travel for days afterward. Never stopping for more than a few days, not that I minded I wanted to get away. I think he knew that we couldn't be seen, well I couldn't, so we skirted every village and out-of-the-way home. I kept track of the days; I did want to return to Hogwarts after all. I told Callen all about it, he seemed fascinated by my stories. We both knew that he couldn't come as he was, and I wouldn't leave without him. I think that's what spurred his animangus power. Well I think it's an animangus power, he didn't agree. Said something about the magic not moving in the way I described.

He became the most beautiful raven, and in just the right light you could see a little red in him too. I found it ironic, the harbinger of ill will nothing more than a lost soul. Callen used the skins from the food he caught to fashion himself new clothes, I understand, the silk was a reminder of what once was, and will never be again. The robe like clothes rippled with his every movement, but he himself never made a sound. I found that unnerving that one could be so without noise, like he feared the slightest provocation would garner wrath unforeseen. It had almost seemed surreal, if I didn't share his pain then he would be truly unearthly. Late at night we told each other our fears, no one ever understood me so completely before.

I studied hard, I had to be ready. The prophesy weighed on my mind all the time. He knew what it meant to be fated and supported me when I couldn't take the pressure. Callen helped me, he taught me about wandless magic. And a few small spells, well not small they tended to be awfully destructive, plus he was company. We would return to Hogwarts and take the world by storm. But first I would need my sixth year supplies. Seeing as I would be incapable of retrieving these items, I used a spell called Vision. This spell allowed an image of me to appear near the person or persons I wished to converse with. Unfortunately I needed a particular beacon to home in on, Callen said not to worry and try anyway. A plus to this is if I talked to him soon Dumbledore might not be so furious.

I remember our conversation, not very pleasant. Some things cannot be unsaid, and others should have been.

Flashback

I finished the final hand motion and initiated the spell. My vision blurred but I know that I did not move. When it came back into focus I studied the Headmasters office. It looked so different with the maps tacked to the walls and information littering every available surface. I looked towards the desk, it appears as if Albus was having a meeting with a few of the 'old crowd.' At first they gaped at me, what I wouldn't do for a camera about now. "Professor Lupin, I suggest that you close you mouth before something fly's in." That started them all.

Questions were thrown my way, everything from about where I was to if I was dead. "Silence!" At least Albus had a little sense left in him, they all quieted down. "Harry?" He left that sentence open for me, hoping that I would tell him more than I intended, clever man. It makes me wonder if he was a Slytheryn, or perhaps a Ravenclaw. He cannot fool me with that, after all I am a Slytheryn myself.

The hat may have been convinced to place me in Griffindor but that doesn't change who I am. Or how I think, it's the survival part that places me there 'cause to be quite frank I'm not seeing the ambition. The hat would have gone against my wishes because I needed what Slytheryn could have given me but it was too big a risk. I was too much of a target and never would have lived past my first year there, be it from overzealous ex-Death Eaters or the media, it did not really matter. So to Griffindor I went to die slowly from those that should have protected me instead of a quick death.

"I was rescued from the Dursely's by a friend. I know Albus, your going to say that my protection is assured if I reside in my home with the blood of my mother's blood." I paused, "but, I have never considered it my home, and I read up on this, all the protection in the world is useless on that house. I was no better off there than in the middle of Diagon Alley with a large red 'hit me' sign painted to my forehead." My beloved headmaster's eyes lost their twinkle, I feel guilty for taking it away. I guess he never thought about the possibility that my family would never love me. He read up on it as well, just because I did not consider it my home made the protection invalid, it was the hate my relatives felt for me. But the others did not need to know that, I was pressed to admit even this much. No man is omnipotent and I do not blame him completely, Albus tends to see the good in everyone.

"Are you dead?" A springy witch with sky blue hair asked of me, what could I tell her?

"No. This is just a spell I learned." I sighed, "Headmaster if you don't mind I would like for someone to pick up my books for the next year. I am sadly unable to do so myself at the moment."

"Harry, where are you?" To be honest, I really didn't know. Oh, a general location of course, but where? Callen and I have traveled so far. It doesn't matter. I shrugged, there was his answer.

"Harry, we should get you to headquarters, it's the safest place." Moony, oh loveable Moony, how could you suggest such a thing? Headquarters? Oh Sirius, I'm so sorry if only i hadn't gone to the Ministry. "We can set you up a room and you can be around friends." Ron. Hermione. They didn't understand, I knew that they loved me a little but we are so far apart. They cannot hope to understand me the way I need and they do not trust me completely. All I have to do to prove that is look back on my own memories of them, we don't have that great a track record. "It's the best for you" I became angry at this. That place held too many memories.

"There is no chance in hell that I will step foot in that house again." I said it so coldly, the frost was just pouring out my lips. They shivered, good serves them right for suggesting that travesty. "I am fine where I am. And I will show up on September 1st at the gates of the school."

"What kind of spell is that Harry?" Albus you clever man, steering the conversation away from painful things. At least it worked, my anger cooled and the witches and wizards looked interested. But poor Moony looked destroyed. I will have to make it up to him someday.

"A projection spell. This is just an illusion, so I am not dead." The witch blushed.

"I don't know of any spell that can achieve this sort of effect." Ah, still curious eh Albus.

"A friend taught me. He taught me many things."

"Who is your friend?"

"An artist of war. The best there is." They seemed slightly disturbed at this admission, I wouldn't blame them. Callen can be down right destructive when he wanted to be. "I have to go, this spell and many others are still new to me. And I cannot hold them for long. I need to rest, see you in a month." A nod of goodbye and I ended the spell. Not the best confrontation, but it will do.

End

We traveled, and I grew healthy again. Callen is the friend that I should always have had. Such vitality, such life. Every time he practiced his art I could see the passion in his eyes, so hot it burned. It made looking at him hurt, and addictive. The perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, all without a single touch. Then sometimes the world weighs heavily on his shoulders, just like me. It's time to return to the school, I see the gates up ahead. Home.

-End-


	3. Chapter 3

Let's go back

Back to the beginning

Back to where the earth, the sun, the stars all aligned

'Cause perfect didn't feel so perfect

Trying to fit a square into a circle

Was no lie

I defy

Let the rain fall down

And wake my dreams

Let it wash away

My sanity

'Cause I wanna feel the thunder

I wanna scream

Let the rain fall down

I'm coming clean, I'm coming clean

I'm shedding

Shedding every color

Trying to find a pigment of truth

Beneath my skin

'Cause different

Doesn't feel so different

And going out is better

Then always staying in

Feel the wind

Let the rain fall down

And wake my dreams

Let it wash away

My sanity

'Cause I wanna feel the thunder

I wanna scream

Let the rain fall down

I'm coming clean, I'm coming clean

I'm coming clean

Let the rain fall

Let the rain fall

I'm coming clean

Let the rain fall down

And wake my dreams

Let it wash away

My sanity

'Cause I wanna feel the thunder

I wanna scream

Let the rain fall down

I'm coming clean, I'm coming clean

Let's go back

Back to the beginning

-Hilary Duff

I stopped in wonder as I first saw the castle. It is even more magnificent than Harry said. He chuckled at me, "I did the same thing when I first saw it." I could only nod, as I am currently a raven. We, well he, walked up to the doors. They were open, a man with brown hair and silver streaks waited, he looked anxious. When he saw Harry he relaxed.

"Harry…" he trailed off, as if unsure of what to say. Harry only smiled at him, shaking his head slowly. They talked, about the dog man, this was private, and so I left. Harry told me of the owlery, but that wasn't a place for me. Keeping to the skies I slowly flew patterned circles above them, out of hearing distance. There the Whomping Willow, the Forbidden Forest, and the Lake with the giant Squid. The wolf man and Harry embraced, a wound healed but a scar forever.

They came to the doors, I swooped in with them. Up ahead were a pair of huge doors, they opened into the Great Hall, I remember. When they opened I felt the same awe that I felt at my first glimpse of Hogwarts. The candles and the enchanted sky astounded me. There to the East, the fading pink of sunrise playing light softly across the chamber was nothing less than, than, there wasn't even a word for it. There is a group of people sitting at the head of the hall, breakfast set before them. They seem relieved to see Harry, that and five seconds away from berating him.

Harry sat down at the table on a raised platform, I landed on his shoulder fluttering my wings slightly. The strict looking woman on the other side of what I could only assume was the Headmaster, violently colored robes and all, spoke up. "Harry, what was that spell you used to contact us?" Ah, that one. Harry had picked that one up real quick, I knew he was clever.

"Vision. Usually I would not have been able to cast it without the appropriate preparations, but Hogwarts is so magical it's kinda hard to miss." They seemed to mull over this. Then they asked where he found the spell. "He taught me. He taught me many things." Who, who? "The Artist of War, who else?" I think that frightened them more than anything, it shouldn't surprise me though, I am good at what I do.

"Harry," the old Headmaster started, "how is it that the Ministry did not pick up on your use of magic?" Wow, a head popper if I ever saw one. I almost hope that greasy haired guy didn't get whiplash, but his hair smells. My friend looked amused. I could swear a few people held their breath.

"Albus, the Ministry can only track the use of magic through wands." A few gasps, I wish I had a camera. Ohh, bacon. Harry looked a little peeved at me, like he was going to eat that. I glared at him and he seemed to realize that I was hungry too. It was breakfast time. I think I heard a stuttered how? Harry just repeated that I taught him, 'course they didn't look twice at the raven, so unappreciative.

They asked who I was, hello raven. But alas Harry and I agreed that they might think me dangerous. So I, Callen the uber smart raven has absolutely nothing to do with the Artiest of War. Nope, nothing at all. Snicker. Ohh, pork. Bacon, one of mans better ideas. Too bad seafood is the main staple of Japan, the variety here is soo much better. They all settled down eventually, Mr. Lupin asked Harry what else he could do, but Harry only said that they might find out later.

A couple owls flew in, the Daily Prophet it would appear. Muffled gasps of shock echoed in the Hall, maybe it wouldn't seem so huge with more people in it. Someone showed Harry the front page, a picture of forest that looked utterly destroyed in a long line, scarring perfection. "Another Attack By He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" You could hear the capitals. My friend had told me of the name fear thingy, I, of course, agreed with him and proceeded to say the name as many times as possible within five minutes. I think he began to understand that I wasn't from this world, but he never asked and I never told.

Harry flushed, and fidgeted. The greasy haired guy noticed, "What is it, Potter?" People turned to face him. I personally think he has a crab up his butt. I mean how someone could sound so callous and cruel in four simple words astonishes me. I don't hate him though, neither does Harry, but I have heard stories, and if greasy man won't grow up then there is no need for respect. He had saved my friends life many times, but he also endangered it with that mockery of lessons Harry was supposed to have about mind protection. The Headmaster asked Harry if he had any information, snicker.

"Tom didn't have anything to do with it." He said finally. At their inquiring looks he continued. "You know when I said you would find out about what I could do later?" nods all around. "It's later." Silence, I really need a camera. Maybe Harry would enchant me one, with an alternative thing for the button o' course. Harry flushed, and fidgeted again. This is better than Jerry Springer, Nabiki was fascinated by that show.

"Excuse me?" I should hope not, that hair was most defiantly un-excusable. I was very much tempted to poke around in it to see if I could find anything alive in it. But that was doubtful, if anything was alive it would have been killed by that toxic waste some people call hair. Besides, wouldn't want to get my beak dirty, it might not wash off.

"It was an accident, I swear!" Great Harry, tell them that, their really gonna trust you now. "I just got a little excited that I said the incantation right that I gathered a little too much energy for it. But it didn't do all that much damage." The crazy bird lady with violently patterned robes and gaudy jewelry gasped and fainted. I think Harry said that she taught Divination. The others only looked stunned, the headmaster's expression was by far the funniest.

"Not that much Damage!" the greasy haired man sputtered. "A heard of rampaging Giants couldn't do this much damage!" Harry winced. I don't think he was expecting that, but that's what you get for losing control of a Dragon Slave. I thank the gods that he wasn't trying out the Laguna Blade during that exercise. I know it's supposed to be sealed, but in this world the Lord of Nightmares still holds fast. He knows the incantation though, but I pray he never has to use it. Sadly I think that only the Golden Demon Lord can destroy an immortal, if Tom Riddle ever achieves it. Or perhaps Ra Tilt, it can destroy Mazokus with ease, the problem is getting the target to stand still and Laguna really is more powerful. Quite frankly I think it's scarier that he picked it up so quickly. Most people studies for years before they even heard of those spells, coughmecough.

They all began to call for answers, their voices joining into one roar encompassing the room. Now the hall doesn't seem so big, as a matter of fact it's stifling. Harry hunches in on himself, the yells taking him back to a place no one would want to be. In the three months since I took him away from those awful relatives of his he hasn't improved much in the trust area, with the exception of myself. The greasy man's eyes spark in recognition, but he seems to dismiss it afterward. Ignorant fool, blind yourself to the world and it becomes a mockery of the truth. I learned this lesson a long time ago, but I ran from my problems, maybe he can eventually help us confront them. If I can beat reality into that closed minded brain of his.

Hopping off Harry's shoulder onto the table I shove a pitcher of pumpkin juice off the table. The sound of it shattering brings them to their senses, and their attention to me. I don't care, they mean nothing to me, only Harry. He slowly slide away from the table and gathers me in his arms. "I'm not hungry anymore." And he walks away. He heads towards the door as stares penetrate our backs, but I nuzzle him in reassurance. We leave the hall and turn down a couple of corridors while the moving pictures follow us with their eyes, they try to seem natural but I can tell their keeping tabs on us. Dumbledor's doing most likely.

The castle is magnificent; I can feel the age in the stones. Some people say that when a place absorbs a lot of magic it becomes aware of itself. I can see how that's true here. A presence watches us, a small aura of protection providing some comfort. It feels like home; something I had lost a long time ago, before the training trip. Harry turns the corner to stand in front of a painting that contains a bowl of fruit. He reaches up to tickle the pear while I wiggle onto his shoulder. When the doorway opens a blue blur crashes into him and I flutter into the air with a squawk.

"Dobby is happy to sees Mr. Harry Potter sirs! When Dobby hears about Mr. Harry Potter missing he is so worries! But Dobby never fears because Mr. Harry Potters is a great wizard and nothing can stop Mr. Harry Potter sirs!" It's amazing that he has not taken a breath during that whole spiel. But it looks like Harry needs one, what a lovely shade of blue he has turned.

"Dobby…air..now." The blue thingy, a House Elf I believe Harry said, squeaks and jumps back. What follows next is a scene that would be humorous if the Elf thingy wasn't actually going to iron his own hands. After ten minutes of this my friend finally convinces the Elf to not punish himself and feed us breakfast. Following that the thing broke into tears wailing about how great and kind 'Mr. Harry Potter sirs' is for thanking him.

"I thought you weren't hungry." Ah, the wolf man. He comes into the kitchen and passes through the throngs of blue elves with ease. He looks a little more worn than this morning. I do not doubt that he has been asked to 'interrogate' Harry on his new abilities, and the Artist. He sits down across the table from us a fills a plate from the feast. I say feast because when Harry said breakfast the Elf must have heard five course brunch. "Everyone wants to know what is going on Harry." My friend moved to speak, "No. You don't have to tell me anything, just don't shut me out, ok?"

"I understand Moony. It's just that I'm not comfortable with sharing this. He placed a lot of trust in me and taught me spells that you or I would never even know about otherwise. Plus he's not a bad guy, lonely perhaps, but not bad." That comment earned Harry a slight nip, but since it was once true I let it pass. No sense in denying the past, or the truth, that kind of thinking leads down dangerous roads. The wolf man seemed to relax a little, but his aura was still apprehensive.

"But still Harry, he taught you dangerous things." Harry just shook his head.

"Mooney I admit the Dragon Slave is destructive, but there are worse things he could have taught me. Besides I learned lots of white magic too, for example a Medgido Flare is harmless against normal people, but the undead are either banished or grievously wounded. Or even Recovery and Resurrection, both are dangerous and Recovery can kill you even faster but those spells are also pure white magic."

"Recovery, Resurrection?" he asked. Harry just sighed and shook his head. The wolf man took this as a sign and backed off. "You do know that Hermione is going to kill you right?" Harry paused and the shuttered remarking to not remind him. "So is there any reason for me to track down this mysterious Artist of War?" Harry shook his head no. "Then we do not have a problem, yeah."

"It's a bit more difficult than that. He and I, well we need each other. I am his harbor from those who would use him and he is my protection from death, which ironically sounds like I am using him but we both know the score. Not the most positive of relationships I will admit. But we trust one another and for us it's enough." Harry's eyes watered a little as I cooed to him.

"You can trust me Harry." Poor wolf man has no idea what he is trying to do, but he tries anyway. I admire that, too bad he cannot hold up his end of the 'bargain.'

"Whatever information I give you can be tortured away from you." Wolf man tried to say something but my Harry cut him off. "No. No matter how devoted you are to me and the 'Light," note to self: when Harry makes quotation marks in the air he looks like an idiot, "you will break." Here Harry sighs. "Be it truth serums or occlumency the truth can be taken from you. To be quite frank the fact that you take dangerous field assignments for the Order just makes you that much bigger of a target. I truly am sorry."

"You have grown up a lot Harry." My friend just nodded saying he had no choice. "I wish everything was different." Ha, if wishes were fishes we would all still be screwed.

They continued the meal in silence and the wolf man walked us to Griffindor Tower where Harry's supplies waited. We spent the day alone until it was time for the feast.

-End-

Author's note: to be honest I actually don't care much for writing, I like to read other peoples work. And I never expected to get so many positive reviews, that's what pushed me to continue. Thanks.

Reena90

kirallie (I am a big fan)

Spiffy Squigglemink-mantra III (I have read some of yours, very original)

Cobra-100 (update please I'm curious)

frog-noo


	4. Chapter 4

Now if you're feelin' kinda low 'bout the dues you've been paying  
Future's coming much too slow  
And you wanna run but somehow you just keep on stayin'  
Can't decide on which way to go  
Yeah, yeah, yeah

I understand about indecision  
But I don't care if I get behind  
People livin' in competition  
All I want is to have my peace of mind.

Now you're climbin' to the top of the company ladder  
Hope it doesn't take too long  
Can'tcha you see there'll come a day when it won't matter  
Come a day when you'll be gone

I understand about indecision  
But I don't care if I get behind  
People livin' in competition  
All I want is to have my peace of mind.

Take a look ahead, take a look ahead, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...

Now everybody's got advice they just keep on givin'  
Doesn't mean too much to me  
a href" of people out to make-believe they're livin'  
Can't decide who they should be.

I understand about indecision  
But I don't care if I get behind  
People livin' in competition  
All I want is to have my peace of mind.

Take a look ahead, take a look ahead. Look ahead.

-Boston

You know, nothing ever seems to be that bad until an angry woman decides to glare at you. Now I have been glared at by the best, notably Snape, but Hermione makes me cringe in a way he has just never been able to accomplish. Of course I would never say that to his face, he'd kill me. What's worse is she hasn't spoken a word yet, when their too pissed to yell it's really bad. Then when she winds down she'll look at me with such disappointment, and that's the killer.

Ron on the other hand shows a little worry but doesn't ask. Sometimes I thank God that most men treat sensitive subjects like they don't exist; I would go starker if he acted even remotely like 'Moine. Callen on the other hand seems to be wavering between amusement and empathy; personally I think he looks constipated, which must be really hard to pull off as a bird. I almost wished for a camera if I wasn't already mentally scarred because of Collin Creevy, and paparazzi.

Callen has gotten a few odd looks plus a rather offensive comment about his general creepiness, I feel sorry for Dean. My friend can adapt any situation to a battle, and Dean's comment constitutes as an attack, a weak attack but one nonetheless. He had told me earlier that he wouldn't tolerate attacks of any kind, but I don't think it will be too bad, Callen isn't cruel. Although he might use something from his pocket, quite frankly he has the strangest collection of things in there. Mostly weapons of one kind or another, when I ask him about how he got them all he mumbles something about a hair style product and ducks. I still don't get it.

The Great Hall was becoming crowded, for me at least, I hadn't been around so many people since school let out. It was very noisy, friends greeting each other and talking about what they did over the summer hols, no one asked me, they knew better. Every now and then I would catch someone looking at me or my name said in a whisper that echoed throughout the Hall. No one came closer because of the really impressive glares given out by my friends, and for that I was thankful. Neville confidently took the seat across the table from me; guess breaking into a "Highly Secure" government building to combat what essentially amounted to terrorists did wonders for his self-esteem. Luna took the seat next to him, it earned her a few odd looks but more glares, including my own, and no comments were made.

The sorting song and placement of the First years passed with a blur, funnily enough so did the feast. The others talked about their summers, the homework, the Weird Sisters, excreta. The food on the other hand was excellent, hey I ate whatever plants we could find and meat for the past few months it was great to me. When we were dismissed 'Moine and Ron actually ignored their Perfect duties and swiftly dragged me to an empty classroom followed by Neville, Luna, and Ginny.

Callen follows silently behind us; I think he uses his ki to keep airborne because I can feel a breeze. It calms my nerves to know that he is there; it's scary to see how much I have come to need him. But now I wouldn't have it any other way, I pray that I never have to choose between my friends because I honestly don't know who I would side with.

Once the door closed and 'Moine put up a silencing char I was bombarded with questions. 'Moine puts her fingers to her mouth and blows a really impressive whistle, I think that even Callen cringed. "Now that the rest of you have quieted down I'll get to the point, Harry where have you been?" never let it be said that Ron and I have "adventured" the bossiness out of her.

"A friend rescued me from my relatives and we went on a, sorta, road trip. We have been traveling in the countryside the whole summer hols. And before you ask yes this is the same friend I call The Artist of War." They look a little stunned at my blunt admissions, keeping people from finding out what Uncle Vernon did to me taught me the value of giving people what they want and omitting the rest.

"Harry, this … friend … the 'Artist of War' could be dangerous. How do you know he's not a Deatheater or a, a psychopath? Because frankly the title isn't that endearing." I could only smile at her and say that not all titles are freely chosen, sometimes they just fit. I don't like the name Boy-Who-Lived, but live I did, guess it's just another way to say I didn't die like I was supposed to. Heh, that's a depressing thought. Callen is an artist, even if it's something terrible like war; it's beautiful in a disturbing way.

Isn't it ironic that the things we, humans, find disturbing and horrifying are usually what we want to know most. Take the news for example, rapes and murders get 20 minutes specials while charities events get the 30 second spot in between the "Breaking News". When I voiced this thought aloud they looked at me like I was mad, except Luna of course. I am probably a little insane, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but I can still tell my right from wrong.

They didn't ask me about the magic I learned; I don't think Dumbledore told them that. It's most likely for the best, they would ask for me to teach them and honestly they don't have the power to make anything but Black Magic to be much use. Apparently I am a unique case, story of my life. I did cast a fully corporal patronus when I was thirteen, magical number, which most adult Auroras cannot do.

We walked up to our dorms; Luna broke away on the 3rd floor to reach the Ravenclaw common. I couldn't help to think about the magic Callen taught me, it's like nothing I have ever seen. Like Callen. I asked him about it, how he knew it all. He told me about his father and the monasteries they visited (and his father pillaged) and the things they would teach him. But the most powerful stuff is from his curse, and wasn't that a total shock. I have seen a lot of things in the Wizarding World, most of it doesn't make sense to me. But I have to admit that Aquatransexuals that change depending on the temperature of water is a bit much. Personally I think a Dark Witch/Wizard was having a bit too much fun.

Anyways his cursed form is apparently a copied matrix from someone named Lina Inverse, except only if Callen was Lina. Apparently her large magic reserves made that particular Spring of Sorrow a little wonky and no one had yet discovered this fact because the only ones to use that spring were the Musk. They dunked animals into the spring of drowned girl (woman actually but Lina had no chest so the Guide thought she was a girl) to procreate with (it is a bit odd that their population bears only male children, they should look into that) and animals (of the non-magic variety) are not the most intelligent of creatures.

The more I learn about Callen the more screwed up I think his life is, or was. Quite frankly we have both lasted longer that we should have, everyone has a breaking point. I am kinda glad I haven't reached mine yet, because if I go, I'm gonna go big. I have tons of magic, so much that my core has never quite adjusted to it, add onto that a very unstable environment where in the past few years there have been numerous attempts on my life I'm not surprised I still have accidental magic.

See when you're a kid the magic adapts itself to your body and psych because you grow so much in the early years. Then by age 11 it should have stabilized a bit and accidental magic kinda just goes away, you still have it but it doesn't happen as often. But I was always in emotional turmoil when I was a kid, I never reached a state where my magic either wasn't healing me or protection me. The constant surges and near complete drains on my core made it so that my body never quite found what my limit was and just produced magic like crazy. In the end I guess you can say I am a late bloomer with a big fricken reserve.

By the time I turn sixteen it should be mostly settled, hopefully. Personally I think it's kinda sad the way this turned out, and disturbing. I mean come on, every really powerful person I know is a few cards less than a full deck. Dumbledore eats those nasty lemon drops and wears the most atrocious clothes, Tom Riddle is a psychopath who likes to monologue, Callen is practically obsessive compulsive about martial arts, and I am depressed. On second thought I think I'm the most normal one.

Great I'm brooding again, sigh. I need a hobby, like flying. I never fly anymore just to fly, Wood drives the practices hard. It's the middle of the night though, but I don't think Callen or Hedwig will mind coming with me. Heck I don't even need my invisibility cloak; Callen has probably already tagged everyone in the castle. It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you. I'm too young for this shit.

Headmaster's Office

"So, what do you think?" It was almost absently asked by the Headmaster. He looked out the window to the three shapes darting about in the air above the lake. One on a broom, one a white beacon in the night, and one who could only be seen when it blocked the moons reflection in the lake. The others in the room followed his line of sight and stared as well.

"He's jaded." Mooney's calm tone greeted the room. Some of them shuffled nervously, Snape looked about ready to comment when a sharp look silenced him. "It never should have gone on this long without support. He's lost too much, we all have. And I think he's losing faith if he hasn't already, I can't blame him."

"But how do we help him? He won't tell us what's wrong, what he's hiding." Minerva stated. It sounded resigned, like she too had given up hope. The Headmaster tore his eyes away from the window to give her a wane smile before looking away again.

"Veritaserium would fix that." They glared at Snape.

"Even if you gave it to him what makes you think his new friend won't stop you?" they all looked to Mooney to elaborate. "The Artist of War."

"How would he know, if he came on the grounds we would know by now and stop him." Minerva stated playing devils advocate, even if she didn't agree with the position. The Headmaster sighed and said the wards were not infallible.

"Besides that," Mooney began, "He's already here." They looked at him in shock. "I can smell him on Harry; it's the same person that was at the Dursley's home. My wolf's senses can feel his presence as well. It's powerful too, like standing next to a bonfire. Too bright to look directly at and so hot you can hardly feel anything else, just this side of getting burned. It would trigger my Fight or Flight response if it wasn't just so damn calming." They were silent, digesting his words.

"Do you think he's dangerous?" Mooney didn't answer right away, those who weren't still shocked waited with bated breath.

"Yes, but not to us. Right now it seems that the only thing he cares about is Harry. To be honest I think it's a good thing, I get the feeling he's not that stable." Mooney looked away.

"That just proves that he is dangerous and we should be detaining him." Snape nearly shouted scathingly. Mooney whipped around and pinned him with a glare.

"I don't think you understand our position!" he stated quietly with a bite, "we can't touch him!" He breathed heavily. "The only one with the power to take him on is Albus or Harry. Albus is too old to be doing stuff like that and he would lose, quickly. Harry doesn't want too, even if he had the magical experience necessary to do such a thing." Silence pervaded the room. "We were not prepared for this."

"Too right." the Headmaster agreed. They were silent again.

"Something else has been bothering me." they once more faced Mooney. "The Dursley's rub me the wrong way, I get the eerie feeling that there is more to their animosity between them and Harry."

"We all know they are not the most ideal guardians and have certain distaste for magic …"

Mooney cut Minerva off "But there is more to it than that. Maybe you all haven't been paying attention but there is something seriously wrong with that house. Haven't you looked at Harry, really looked? Both his parents were not short people and the second year girls are all taller than he is." Most of their faces showed surprise but none of them could bring themselves to deny it, even Snape.

"Information." The Headmaster stated bringing their attention back to him. "It is the most valuable commodity in these times," here he looked to Snape with intensity before his eyes focused on something beyond them, something they couldn't see. "I never seem to know enough," his soft voice continued while his face aged before them. "And I keep making mistakes I should have foreseen." They shifted uneasily again as their leader seemed to sag wearily but they dared not interrupt him. "I feel as though I stand on the edge of a cliff I cannot see, and a single misstep will bring all that we have worked for down around our ears."

He focused on them once more. "Since the beginning of summer hols, about the time Harry went missing from his relatives, every seer has not seen a thing." They were almost too shocked to gasp. There were many kinds of seers, ones who dreamed, and others who saw in objects, even some who just knew. They really did see a lot of things, most inconsequential happenings that made little difference one way or another, that's why Divinanation was so unreliable. The world changing events were right next to the number of grains in a coffee pot. But to not see a single thing, it was unheard of.

"Scrutinize everything; we cannot afford to miss anything now." They nodded in assent to his command and took the dismissal as well. He stood looking out at the figures beyond the window once more, this time alone. Even the soft crooning of Fawkes did not ease his troubled mind.

-End Chapter-

I really would like a beta. But I'll take someone who will bounce ideas with me.


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